


We'll be done in a turn of the earth

by AmeliaDarkholme



Category: Barry (TV 2018), I Am Not Okay with This (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaDarkholme/pseuds/AmeliaDarkholme
Summary: “We’re definitely Hollywood-blockbuster material. The wanted hitman and the powerful teenage girl. Someone should really ring Spielberg up.”
Relationships: Barry Berkman & NoHo Hank, Barry Berkman & Sydney Novak, Barry Berkman/Sally Reed (mentioned), Dina/Sydney Novak (mentioned), Stanley Barber & Sydney Novak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. All the dead seem to know where I am

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this story is pretty self-indulgent because I miss Barry, and I’m still super sad that I Am Not Okay With This got cancelled. Plus, things haven’t been all that great for me, so writing this crossover is kind of an outlet for me to cheer myself up. I apologise in advance if this story ends up terrible.
> 
> Anyway, this story is set after the end of Barry season 2 and I Am Not Okay With This season 1. I try to stick to canon (the tv series canon of IANOWT, at least), but I do have to make some changes for the sake of the story. The most notable one is how Syd didn’t go to the tree house after homecoming and instead went straight home. So, she wouldn't have met Shadow either. But other than that, everything else stays the same.
> 
> Oh, one more thing! The title of the song and the chapters are from Lord Huron’s Ghost on the Shore. And a huge thanks to Oksana Polastri, as always, for fixing my mess. I enjoyed writing this so much, and I hope you guys like it too :)

“One twin room, please.”

“For how many nights?” the receptionist said without looking up from her magazine. Syd supposed it was a good thing that they were always staying over at sucky motels. Everyone always cared too much about their own business to nose into anyone else’s.

“Three,” Syd answered. “But we might add more if we feel like it.”

“That’ll be a hundred.”

Turning to the man beside her, Syd gave him a fake-smile and said, “Well, _Dad?_ Pay up. I’m so sick of today and I just want to sleep it off. Let’s hope that I’ll choke in my sleep and _die_.”

“Sydney,” Barry started, but she quickly cut him off.

“Can I have the keys?” she said to the receptionist, who finally took her eyes off her magazine. The woman watched them closely as she gave Syd the keys. Syd nodded her thanks and quickly left, briefly taking a look at the room number before walking away.

She wasn’t walking fast enough though, because she could still hear the receptionist saying, “Grumpy daughter, huh? I have one just like her too. Always complaining about everything.”

Syd quickened her pace, lest she’d have to listen to Barry’s response. She unlocked the door to their room and threw her bag onto the bed in the corner of the room. The childish, spiteful part of her wanted to take the bed near the door, the one Barry always claimed as his for their safety. She wanted to see how far she could push him, so she could find a reason to really walk away from him for good this time. But she hadn’t been lying when she said that she wanted to sleep the night off. In the end, she decided that she’d just take a quick shower before going to bed, telling herself that there would always be tomorrow for her to pick fights with Barry. When she was done showering and was dressed for bed, Barry was already in the room, sitting tensely on his bed. He was drumming his fingers on his knees restlessly, and the gesture made him seem younger than he actually was. He looked like he wanted to talk to Syd, but she silenced him with a cold glare, so he relented with a sigh.

“Good night, Syd,” he said quietly.

“Fuck off, Barry,” she spat and pulled her covers up to her head.

She pretended she didn’t hear when Barry exited the room five minutes later.

* * *

Fucking homecoming.

She was right all along. She _shouldn’t_ have come.

Syd was grateful that her mother and brother were both asleep when she snuck back into her house. But she still made sure that everything she did was extra slow to keep the noise down. She saw how her mother was passed out on the couch in front of the TV, and she could feel her heart breaking a little for the woman. She _had_ been such a dick to her mother, when she’d done all she could for Syd and Liam. Wiping away the tears she didn’t realise had fallen, Syd hastily went into her room. She grimaced when she saw her reflection in her mirror, covered in Brad’s blood and God-knew what else. She took a moment to consider getting a proper shower. But in the end she opted against it, knowing that if she wanted to leave that night before the police got to her, she didn’t have that much time. The most she could do was wash her face and change her dress into something else. Something _clean._ Then she quickly packed everything she could in the biggest bag she could find. She grabbed her dad’s tags and the only picture she could find of her mother and Liam that she could take without waking up the whole house. When she saw her phone lighting up with a call, Stan’s name on the screen, she knew it would be smarter for her if she left the phone behind.

Syd already had one hand on the front door when she heard her mother’s voice.

“Sydney, is that you?” Maggie Novak said, her speech slurring a little from fatigue.

Syd quickly left without answering her mother.

She left before she could be tempted into changing her mind.

* * *

Barry had always hated it when people got mad at him. He would do everything he could to gain their forgiveness, even if most of the time, it would only worsen things. That was his bad habit, making a situation even worse when it was already terrible. It was why things had always been so fucking shitty in his life, and he had no one but himself to blame. He had always considered the possibility of him being cursed, and ever since Korengal, he’d been surer than ever of it. Even when he was trying all his his might to be a good person, he always fucked things up. He had learned the hard way that there was simply no point in explaining himself to people. Look where it had gotten him. When it came to Syd though, Barry couldn't help but try to make her understand. But he knew that she couldn't stand him at the moment, not after what he'd said to her. So when he noticed that she was pretending to sleep, he left the room to give her some time alone. If he was honest with himself, he kind of needed the space too. It was what he should have done a week ago.

He spent over an hour sitting in his car, squinting at the map in front of him trying to figure out where they should be going next. His eyes kept on going back to the small inscription that said LA, but he knew he couldn't possibly go back. Not when he'd gone through all the trouble to fly back to Cleveland, only to be intercepted by the cops there and was nearly caught. The original plan he and Syd had agreed on was to go to Canada, hence why they were currently in Seattle. But a part of him worried that the police would already be waiting for them when they got there. There had been too many close calls, when people recognised him as the man who’d slaughtered two different mafia armies, and Syd as the girl who’d somehow burst her bully's head into a pool of blood and gore. He realised that if they really wanted to lay low, they would have to go somewhere far, far away. Like Europe. Anywhere in Europe would be god. Sighing heavily, Barry folded up the map and put it in the glove compartment before going back to their room. He just hoped that Syd would be in a forgiving mood when she woke up the next morning so they could discuss his new plan.

Syd was finally asleep for real when he got back into their room, her posture visibly relaxed under the covers. Barry went to take a quick shower, just in case they had to leave early in the morning. He was already pulling at his own covers when he heard a faint sob coming from Syd. He clenched his jaw, his heartbeat quickening against his chest as he told himself that he’d imagined the sound. But then Syd’s voice became louder, and she was twisting and turning in her bed, muttering in distress even if she was incoherent. Barry cursed under his breath as he felt the ground beneath him start to shudder, and he knew he had to wake Syd up before she broke the motel apart or something. Moving slowly and carefuly, he reached out toward the girl and gently shook her. He could see, even in the dark, that tears were falling profusely down Syd’s face, and it broke his heart to look at it. For someone so young, she’d dealt with so much already.

“Syd,” Barry said softly. “Sydney, wake up.”

“Please,” the girl whispered, eyes shut tightly as her tears kept on falling. “Let me go. I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to kill Brad. I’m really, _really_ sorry. Please, believe me.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Barry continued, tentatively lowering himself beside her. “Syd, you’re okay. You’re safe. No one else is here. It’s just me. It’s just Barry.”

The beds were floating off the floor now, and Syd didn’t seem like she’d be waking up any time soon. “N-no. Liam? Mum? Wake up. Wake up! Come on, open your eyes— _don’t touch me_! I didn’t kill them! Stop it! _Leave me alone!_ I didn’t kill them. _I swear!”_

“It’s just a dream, Syd. You didn’t kill anybody. Come on, wake up, kid. You’re okay. _They’re_ okay.”

“No, no, no, no, no… _Dina! Stanley!_ Guys, wake up. Don’t do this to me. Fucking wake _up!”_

“Sydney, it’s okay. It’s all just a dream. You just have to wake up, and it’ll all be o—“

Barry made a mistake. Desperate to wake Syd up lest she completely lose control of her power, he didn’t realise that he’d tightened his hold on her shoulder. Syd snapped her eyes open then, those green orbs of hers wide with terror as she looked at Barry. Before he could even _think_ of moving away, Syd had waved her left hand to the side, sending Barry flying across the room. He slammed roughly against the wall, his head hitting hard enough that he was sure he’d fainted for a moment. When he finally woke up, he found that he was alone in the room, with the door wide open, and Syd was nowhere to be found.

* * *

 _“You killed her. You killed my Janice. And you_ dared _to come lecture me about grief. How could you stand acting like everything was alright, coming to see me day after day, when you’d killed the love of my life? You knew how important she was to me, and you still killed her. You fucking psycopath.”_

_“You betrayed me, kid. After everything I’ve done for you, you betrayed me. So don’t come blaming me for ruining your life. I warned you, didn’t I? I fucking warned you. And wherever the fuck you are,_ you _are a dead man. It’s not me, kid. It’s you. They’re coming to get you.”_

_“Barry, where the fuck are you? I’ve been trying to call you all day and you didn’t answer. I can’t believe you ghosted me just when I finally suceeded in doing something. I know what I did was wrong. But that doesn’t mean you can just do this to me. Call me back or we’re through.”_

_“Hey, man. That was…not cool what you did back there. I mean, I’m totally cool with you killing the Bolivians. We finally got rid of Esther, so that’s great. And Batir finally believed in me, which was awesome because now I could do things I never could before. Three cheers for me! Wahoo! But um, why did you kill the others too? I get that you couldn’t tell which ones were Cristobal’s men and which ones were Esther’s. Yet you killed Mayrbeck and the all the other guys. Barry, is something…is something wrong? I figured something happened between you and Fuches. Was that why—“_

_“Messages all deleted.”_

“Mother _fucker!”_ Barry hissed, throwing his phone out of the window of his car. “You fucking _idiot._ Why did you do that, you fucker. You always fucked things up. What the fuck is _wrong_ with you, Berkman. Good job on fucking up your life again. Now you literally have nowhere to go— _fucking hell!”_

Barry stepped hard on the brake, feeling his heart lurch in his throat. There was a girl right in front of his car, and he would have run her over if he hadn’t stopped right on time. He knew that he would have been completely and utterly _fucked_ if he had run her over, considering that he was only two hours away from Cleveland. For all he knew, the police down here in Pittsburgh had been alerted about him by the ones back home, and they were probably already hot on his tail. Taking two quick, calming breaths, Barry got out of the car to check the girl’s condition. The girl looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, with reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. She was very pale, and it made her freckles stand out even more on her skin. She was sitting on the ground with a big duffle bag on her lap, and she was staring at him with unseeing eyes, probably from the shock of nearly dying. Barry was sure he hadn’t actually hit her though, but he figured that he should check anyway.

Better to be safe than sorry.

* * *

Syd didn’t actually like burritos. Hell, she was pretty sure she’d only ever tried them once, back before her father had died. Unlike Liam, she’d left her burrito mostly uneaten until her father finished it. But when she got to the 24-hour diner, dressed only in her baggy shorts and equally baggy t-shirt after running out from her room in a panic, and saw that the diner sold burritos, she didn’t even hesitate before ordering one. She ate the burrito in silence, not really tasting anything because she was too deep in her thoughts. Her mind went from thinking about her family, to burritos, to Stan, to Dina, to Brad, to that fucking prom, to Barry, to the days she’d spent running away, and lastly it went back to Barry. _The man she’d nearly killed._ Her ears were ringing as she recalled again how she’d thrown Barry across the room, and it took all of her willpower to keep herself calm. It didn’t even occur to her until much later, when she was drinking her soda, that she hadn’t brought any money with her. Cursing herself under her breath, Syd was considering how fast the waitress would be if she decided to run away, when she saw Barry coming into the diner.

Syd kept her head down, eyes on her balled-up burrito wrapper as she heard Barry took the seat across from her. She didn’t look up when the waitress came to the table again, this time asking Barry what he wanted to order. The man politely told the waitress he’d order later, and she walked away after telling him to just call her when he was ready to order. Syd kept quiet the whole time, partly because she was stubborn as always about admitting her mistakes, and partly because she didn’t quite know what to say to him after she’d apologised. It wasn’t like she made it a habit to throw grown men across the room with a simple flick of her wrist. Not to mention, said grown-man was actually a _hitman_ wanted in at least three states for the murder of a cop and at least fifty mobsters. Technically speaking, even though Syd was the one with the super power, Barry could have killed her anytime. _She_ should be downright terrified to be traveling all over the country with him. But for the first time since her father’s death, she felt truly safe. Despite every horrible thing she knew he’d done, Syd didn’t doubt that Barry was a _good_ person. Who was just stupid enough to do bad things.

It was with this thought in mind that Syd decided to apologise.

“I’m sorry,” she said, at the same time Barry did.

Barry looked as surprised as she was by the apology. He looked like he was going to question her, but she quickly beat him to it.

"What are you apologising for?" Syd asked. "I was the one who threw you against the wall. Looks like you were right after all. I almost got you killed because I couldn't control my powers."

Barry grimaced and shook his head. "Well, _that's_ what I'm apologising for. I shouldn't have said that. I'm really sorry."

"No, it's fine. I understand now. Like I already said, you were right."

"That doesn't excuse me being a dick to you though. Things have been tough on you, and I should be more patient."

"Alright, alright. We're both assholes, and we're terribly sorry. How about that?"

Barry laughed his assent, his left eye crinkling deeper than his right as his lips were tugged wide to show his white yet crooked teeth. Not for the first time, Syd was struck by how goofy the man was, considering that he was a dangerous hitman who could single-handedly kill fifty highly-trained men. He was incredibly normal most of the time, albeit a little tense and awkward. In a way, he rather reminded her of a subdued, quieter Stanley Barber. Minus the ridiculous shirts.

"You know," Barry began, his laughter turning to a hesitant smile as he chose his words carefully. “I get that we were forced into this because the both of us are fugitives running away together out of convenience, but I am here for the long run. Until we’re truly both safe and sound, at least. So, if you…ever feel the need to talk to me about anything, I’ll be here to listen to you.”

“I know,” Syd said, giving Barry a small smile in return. “And you can tell me anything too, I suppose? My school counselor, Ms Capriotti, she’s always going on about the importance of opening up to people to let all the anger and sadness go. I used to hate her when she started prattling about it, and I _still_ hate her because of it, I think? But now I kinda see that she’s right. I probably wouldn’t have blown Brad’s head into pieces if I’d done what she told me to do.”

Barry smiled, crossing his arms across his chest as he let out a sigh. “Well, shit. I guess it’s only fair if I…tell you about how fucked up my life has been lately? It’s pretty…bleak though. I don’t know whether you’ll be comfortable listening to it.”

“Dude, I blew up a guy’s _head,_ remember?” Syd said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “Trust me, I can handle it.” She reached forward and patted Barry’s hand, and she was pleased when she saw another one of Barry’s crooked smile.

“Alright, then. Consider yourself warned,” Barry said. He heaved deeply and took a moment to mentally prepare himself before he finally spoke. “I had a psychotic break back when I was still a Marine, and I ended up killing a civilian. Then my ‘uncle’ pulled some strings to get me out of the mess I got into, leaving me no choice but to feel indebted to him. I ended up becoming a hitman for him, killing people for shitloads of money that the both of us shared. Most of the time they were bad people though, and the thought that I was getting rid of assholes was the reason why I did that for a long time. Then one day I just wanted to quit. My last hit made me consider a life of becoming an actor. I met my girlfriend there, although she’s probably my ex now. But everything went to shit from the very beginning, so I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised that my life is all fucked now. I killed a cop, who was the girlfriend of the man I respected a lot. Then I got betrayed by my so-called uncle. But that’s not the most fucked up shit in my life right now. The most fucked up shit is that out of everyone I have left in my life, the only one who cared enough to ask me how I was doing was a naïve and utterly annoying, Chechen mob boss, who thought I was fucking John Wick.”

“Damn,” Syd whistled. “No wonder you’re so fucked in the head, man. We’re lucky that _I’m_ the one with the telekinetic bullshit powers. You’d have probably levelled a city to the ground.”

“Thanks, Syd,” Barry chuckled, curling in on himself as though he were trying to make himself smaller. It was the most pathetic thing she’d ever seen in her entire life, and _she_ had done some ridiculously pathetic things herself. Eager to cheer him up a little bit, Syd quickly said the first thing she could come up with.

“You’re wrong though. The most fucked up shit in your life is that you’re pretending to be the father of a Carrie White-wannabe. Hey, we’re practically living in a Stephen King story right now.”

“We should sell our stories to some movie producers then. I bet they’ll be interested. I want Jon Hamm to play me though. And you should get that girl from that clown movie to play you. She rather looks like you.”

It was Syd’s turn to laugh, and it felt _great._

“Alright, my turn. My dad killed himself about a year ago because he couldn’t deal with the guilt that he’d literally blown up his unit and the other side’s. He was a Marine like you, so I guess that’s why you and I get along really well. His death made it hard for me and my mum to spend even an hour together without yelling at each other, and it took me a while to really get over his death and be able to understand my mum. My brother is a billion times better than I can ever hope to be, so of course, we’re very close. I am very lucky though, because I have two of the _best_ people ever as my friends. Unfortunately, we’re all tangled up in this stupid love triangle _bullshit,_ and on top of Dad’s death, and all my fights with Mum, I guess it triggered the telekinetic power my dad passed on to me. Things were actually turning out for the better the day we met, but then I accidentally blew someone’s head off because he was about to reveal my secret power to everyone at school. And now I’ve been on the run with you for the past two weeks.”

“I’m really sorry for what’s happened to you,” Barry said. This time, it was his turn to reach for her hand to offer her some comfort.

“Thank you, but well, that’s just my life,” Syd said with a shrug that she hoped was casual. “I’m getting used to it.” She flashed him a small smile, silently asking Barry to at least pretend to believe her. She was grateful when he kindly played along and didn’t badger further.

“What a life though. For a seventeen year old,” Barry said.

“It’s nowhere as exciting as yours, Mr Dangerous Hitman. Save for the superpower, my life is just your average American teenage angst. Full of stupid people and their stupid drama.”

“You’re right about one thing though. We’re _definitely_ Hollywood blockbuster material. The wanted hitman and the powerful teenager girl. Someone should _really_ ring Spielberg up, because—“

“What?” Syd asked, alarm bells ringing in her head as Barry trailed off mid-sentence, his eyes widening in terror as they settled on something behind Syd.

Or rather, the group of heavily-armed men heading their way.

* * *

“I am _so_ sorry,” the man said, kneeling down in front of her as he carefully touched her shoulder. “You just came out of nowhere, but I _swear_ , I was actually watching the road. Are you okay though?”

The car hadn’t actually hit Syd. When it grazed her bag, it wasn’t even hard enough to jostle the bag from her shoulder. The reason she’d fallen to the ground had more to do with shock, really. After everything that had happened—making up with Stan, nearly kissing Dina, accidentally killing Brad, and running away from home—nearly getting hit by a car was like the cherry on top of the nightmarish sundae that was her life. When she felt the man in front of her shake her shoulders gently, that was when Syd finally snapped out of her daze, blinking her eyes into focus as she took in the man. He was easily one of the biggest men she’d ever met. Even in the dark, and even with his dark clothing, Syd could tell that he was a little over six feet tall, with broad shoulders that reminded her of her father. His timid mannerisms, especially when he looked at her in panic with his wide blue eyes, didn’t quite fit his rather threatening build. His soft, almost squeaky voice made him even less intimidating.

“…hey, miss? Are you listening to me? What’s that on your— _shit._ Is that _blood?_ Did you hurt your head or something? Break any bones? Should I, uh… Do you want me to take you to a hospital?” the man said again, sounding more frantic now.

Syd slowly shook her head and let the man help her up on to her feet. “I’m fine. Really. Just a bit…surprised. I’m not hurt or anything. This is…well, it _is_ blood. But um, it’s n-not…mine?”

“Oh,” the man said. He blinked once. Twice. _Thrice._ And then, in a small voice, “Are you in trouble?”

She swallowed heavily, feeling her heart thundering against her chest. She opened her mouth, her mind desperately trying to find a believable lie. But before she could say anything, she heard the telltale sirens of a police car. In an instant, she felt a gripping terror at the thought of what would happen to her if she got caught. She’d seen the movies, she’d seen what the government would do to people like her. She knew that she was better off dead than getting caught by the police. But then her eyes caught the sight of a gun tucked in the back of the man’s jeans, and her mind offered her the one and only solution it could come up with. When she opened her mouth again for the second time to speak, she didn’t even know she possessed that kind of confidence and courage in her.

“You don’t need to know about it,” she answered. “What you need to know is that _you’re_ going to take me with you to wherever the fuck you’re going, or I’m going to tell the cops you just ran me over.”

The man cocked an eyebrow and made a vague gesture at her. “Aren’t the cops looking for you though? You’re the one who’s covered in blood, you know.”

“ _I fucking know that!_ ” Syd snapped, growing angrier in her panic because she could hear the sirens getting closer. She noticed the lights flickering above her and she took a deep breath to calm herself. “But you’re still a grown man with a fucking gun on him, and you nearly ran over a teenager girl about half your size. We’ll see which one of us the cops will believe.”

The man narrowed his eyes at her, and for a split second, Syd thought that he was going to shoot her right then and there. While the thought was quite terrifying, she had a feeling that she could take him down if she had to. Her power always came when she was upset or threatened, or _both._ And she figured if the man was going to shoot at her, she would definite feel both, and that, of course, would trigger her powers. Thus, she straightened herself, tilted her head back and bravely looked back at this towering man in front her. She knew that it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like it’d been hours when the man’s frown finally softened and a contemplative look took over his features, and it felt like even longer until he finally nodded.

“Get in the car,” he said curtly. “There’s a cap in the glove compartment, you’d better wear that to hide your hair until we can find some place to wash it.”

“Okay,” Syd said, quickly getting into the passenger seat and doing as she was told. She pretended she didn’t see the two other guns in the glove compartment when she grabbed for the cap. “I’m Sydney, by the way. Sydney Novak. But you can call me Syd.”

“I’m Barry Ber– _Block,”_ he corrected at the last second. Breathing deeply, he started the engine and drove away. “My name’s Barry Block.”

“ _Ookaay,”_ Syd said, dragging on the syllables. “Well, Barry Block, where are we headed now?”

* * *

The fucking FBI had finally found them.

Barry should have known it would come to this at some point. If Loach, who was nowhere near as intelligent as Janice, could find out about him in only a month, it was perfectly understandable that the FBI could do it in a little over a week. He clenched his jaw tightly when the FBI yelled at him to give them his gun and put his hands in the air, but he did exactly as they told him. He couldn't risk upsetting those trigger-happy federal agents, lest it would lead to Syd triggering _her_ powers instead. Lifting his hands and crossing them behind his head, he stood right in front of the girl, making sure that he was shielding her completely. It was impossible though. There were around ten agents there, and they all had completely surrounded Barry and Syd. He felt chills running down his spine when his eyes caught sight of the way the desks started to tremble. Stealing a quick look at Syd, he saw the girl was clenching her hands together in her effort to keep calm. It was almost automatic for him to reach a comforting hand toward her.

"It'll be okay, Syd," Barry said softly, hoping that the smile he offered her was reassuring. "Don't worry. I won't let them hurt you."

"Mr Berkman, show us your hands!" one agent said. "And no sudden moves!"

"I was just comforting her, ma'am," Barry said, looking back at the agent without taking his hand off of Syd's shoulder. "I promise I'll comply with everything you want me to do. Just let me comfort her. "

"Please step aside from Miss Novak, sir."

"Alright, alright. I'll do anything you guys want. Just let her go, okay? I'll do anything."

"I'm afraid Miss Novak will have to come with us too," another agent said, and Barry could feel Syd's hand finding his in an instant, gripping tightly. "There are some questions about the death of Brad Lewis, and we hope she can help us provide some answers."

"Barry," Syd whispered, her grip on his hand almost painful now. Around them, he noticed that objects were floating already.

"You don't want to do that," Barry said urgently. "Please, just take me. I will go with you. _I swear_. But let her go."

"The both of you are coming with us, Mr Berkman. That's non-negotiable. Now, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. It's your choice."

Barry knew they had no choice but to oblige. Turning slightly toward Syd with his hands still behind his head, he gave her another hopefully-reassuring smile before he quietly spoke. "I guess we'll have to come with them, Syd. Maybe if we obey them, they'll go easy on us."

"No, no, no, no, no," Syd said, frantically shaking her head. "You _know_ what they'll do to me once they figure out I'm a freak. And they're going to lock you away forever, Barry. You killed _fifty_ people, remember? No, I'm not coming with them. I'm not going without a fight."

"They'll find out about your power anyway if we choose to fight them. Hell, I'm pretty sure they've figured it out by now. There are too many of them and we can't fight them all. I don't have my gun with me, and you still have no control over your power. We simply have no other choice."

" _No!_ " Syd whispered tearfully. "I told you I'd rather die than get captured. And we both know that they will hurt me under the pretense of finding out a way to fix me. I don't care if you're too chickenshit to help me, but I won't let them get their hands on me. I _don't_ need your help."

The lights around them exploded, and two gunshots rang out loud in the diner. Barry didn't hesitate when he pulled Syd into his arms and curled protectively around her. He was barely fast enough though, because the bullets went right through his chest, where Syd's head would have been if he hadn't shielded her from them. It was completely silent then, which he found quite weird because his ears were still ringing from the adrenaline. He gently pushed Syd off of him to check on his wounds, letting out a pained groan when the movement sent pain all over his body. He saw how fast and wide the blood was spreading all over the front of his shirt, but the only thing he could think of was how grateful he was that the bullets hadn't hit Syd. He knew he was losing consciousness when he noticed that he had fallen onto the ground, dragging Syd with him since she hadn't completely let go of him. He could faintly hear her talking to him, but try as he might, he couldn't catch what she was saying as he was pulled into the darkness.

He did notice the ground shaking underneath him though, because _t_ _hat_ was hard to miss.

* * *

"Right. Here we are... Do you remember what we've discussed?"

"Yeah. My name's Sydney Jones, and you're my dad Barry. We'll have a twin room, and we're staying for the night."

"And?"

"Oh, right. And we're here because you're taking me on a road trip to Canada to give my mum, your wife, a surprise visit while she's on her work trip."

"Good. Here's the money for the room, and I'll be waiting out here for you. If they ask about me, tell them I'm going for a smoke."

"Huh. So, do you smoke then?"

" _Come on._ Let's just get this over with."

They got out of the car and went into the motel, although Barry was walking a few steps behind the girl, Sydney. Or Syd, as she seemed to prefer. They'd agreed that it would _hopefully_ seem less creepy if she was the one who asked for the room. If Barry was to be honest though, the reason he'd asked her to do it was because he didn't want to risk geting recognised. He was wanted in LA and Cleveland already. He wasn’t sure how fast exactly the news travelled in the country, but he'd really rather not find out. He watched with baited breath as Syd made small talk with the receptionist, an awkward smile on her face as she pushed a hundred dollar bill across to the woman. He felt like he could breathe again when Syd took the key from the receptionist, giving the woman an appreciative nod before heading back to Barry. When the girl gave him a beaming smile and a thumbs-up, he couldn't help but feel a small smile tugging at his own lips. It had been a long time since he last saw such a show of genuine childishness.

"I take the one next to the door,” Barry said once they’d gotten into their room, throwing his bag onto the bed he’d claimed as his. “If anyone comes, they’ll have to get through _me_ first.”

“Um, okay then,” Syd said, a slight frown on her face. But she didn’t make a fuss about it and instead began to dig around in her bag. All the looseness she’d had in the past few hours since they’d met was gone when she pulled out her change of clothes and toiletries, and she became as tense as she had been before. Shifting her weight on her feet, she timidly said, “I uh, I’m going to take a shower. To fully clean off the blood.”

“Oh,” was all Barry said for a while. He blinked his eyes a couple of times before he could finally talk again. “Do you…want me to leave the room? To give you some privacy?”

“As long as you’ll swear to me that you’re not going to barge in to rape me, I think I can handle the awkwardness of this situation,” Syd said. She let out an awkward chuckle in what Barry thought was an attempt to make light of the situation. But Barry could only look at her in horror, shocked.

“I wouldn’t ever do that!” Barry exclaimed, trying to get her to believe him. “I _swear_ , you’ll be safe with me. You can trust me. I- I may seem weird and…and creepy, but I promise you I’m a good person.”

“I know, I know,” Syd said quickly. “I was just…joking. But I guess that was inappropriate.”

“You know what, I’ll just wait outside,” Barry decided in the end. “I’ll even…leave my gun here with you, so it’ll help you feel safer. You can turn the TV on when it’s okay for me to come back.”

“Thanks, man,” Syd said quietly. Barry nodded, but said nothing else and left.

Barry went back to his car to check on his guns. Most of his gear was back in LA, stashed under his bed at Sally’s place, at the flat he shared with Jermaine and Nick, and at the hotel where he stayed with Fuches. He only had one rifle and three handguns with him, which technically, were more than anyone posing as a normal person would ever need. He knew that while Syd couldn't possibly know who and what he really was, he had no doubt that the girl had seen his gun and understood that he hadn't come to Brownsville to see the sights. It didn't really explain why she was so adamant on tagging along with him, but judging from the blood in her hair, he guessed she wasn't exactly as innocent as most seventeen year-olds were. He figured she'd at least terribly injured someone, and since she'd seen his guns, he felt that it was important for him to keep a close eye on both her and his guns. He considered hiding them from her, but in the end he opted against it. He didn't know how long it would take before the authorities caught up with him. He would need easy access to his guns to defend himself.

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it'd been half an hour since he’d left Syd for her shower. He checked the rounds on his guns and rifle one last time before heading back to their room, mentally hoping that she was done already. He found her sitting on her bed munching on the chocolate bar they’d bought on their way to the motel, and her eyes were glued to the screen of the TV. At first, Barry didn't really care about whatever she was watching, busying himself with searching through his own bag for a set of clean clothes. But then he heard his name being mentioned, followed by Mr Cousineau's and Janice's, and he couldn't help giving the TV his full attention. Smacked right onto the screen was a picture of him, and in the background Mr Cousineau was being interviewed about how he'd found Janice's body and had been tipped off on how Barry had killed her. Barry felt like shooting the TV when he saw Fuches next, and the traitorous bastard was telling the reporter how he had witnessed Barry single-handedly kill about fifty Bolivian, Burmese _and_ Chechen Mafia members. Then to make things worse, _Sally_ came on camera and had a microphone shoved in front of her face as the reporter asked her about Barry. The only good thing about the whole thing was how she refused to say anything other than how she hadn’t seen him since the night of her successful play.

The news didn’t end there though. The news anchor went on to read another headline that came from freaking Brownsville of all places, and it was now Syd’s turn to have her face plastered all over the TV screen. A blurry, phone-recorded video of Syd getting yelled at by the typical asshole-jock bully began to play with the news anchor describing how the video was taken by a fellow student during homecoming. It went on for a couple of minutes, showing the jock, who was named Brad Lewis, reveal all of Syd’s secrets by reading what seemed to be Syd’s diary. He taunted her about how she moped on and on about her miserable life, and told the whole school how she was in love with _his_ girlfriend, who was Syd’s best friend. He had a malicious smirk on his face the whole time, and seemed intent on humiliating Syd further by revealing the last of her secrets, when his head suddenly exploded, and blood covered everyone in the vicinity. The video ended there with everyone running out of the school gym, before going back to news anchor saying that Syd had disappeared that night, and that the local police were looking for her so they could ask some questions.

Then Syd turned off the TV.

The silence was ironically loud between them.

“Did you kill him?” Barry asked, what felt like hours later.

It felt like even longer when Syd finally answered him, her eyes still lingering at the dark screen of the TV. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted him to shut up. I couldn’t let him tell everyone that…that I…”

“That you’re what?” he asked again. “ _How_ did you kill him anyway? I didn’t see you move at all.”

She finally took her eyes off the TV and turned to look at him, her green eyes wide with terror as her already pale complexion turned even paler. Barry could see the slight tremor in her body, and he wondered what it was about her secret that was so terrible that she’d had to kill her schoolmate to shut him up. It was at that moment that he felt his heart go out for her, because he understood how she felt. He understood what it felt like to be hiding a secret so big and so terrible, that once someone found out about it, he’d have no choice but to silence them. _Forever._ He slowly moved closer to her until he ended up right beside her. Carefully, so he wouldn’t scare her, he lowered himself to sit down next to her on her bed, hoping that it would be enough to convey to her that he wouldn’t judge her for anything she’d done. How could he? He was the one who was officially a wanted man for murder. His kill-count was worryingly high even for a former Marine.

“I couldn’t let him tell everyone that I had telekinetic powers,” Syd whispered faintly, and it was almost inaudible, so Barry had to lean closer to make sure he hadn’t misheard what she’d said. “In my head, I was only thinking how I wanted him to shut up. But I was so, _so angry,_ and so desperate, that I lost control of my power and ended up blowing his head off.”

It took Barry a full ten seconds to process what she was saying.

“Telekinetic powers, you say?” Barry said dumbly when he could speak again, his voice coming out embarrassingly squeaky. “You mean like in X-Men?”

“I guess, yeah.” The girl let out a shuddery breath then, and she had tears in her eyes when she looked imploringly at Barry. “Y-you see why I _had_ to run, right? If the police caught me and found out I had freaky powers, they would experiment on me. And we’ve seen in the movies. When the government experiment on you, it’s a fate worse than death.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, still in that weird voice. He knew he should say something more, at least to alleviate Syd’s worries. But he was still shocked, and all he could do was stare at her. It was clearly the wrong thing to do, because now the girl looked both frightened and determined.

“You’re not going to tell them about me, are you?” Syd said, so brave and confident in her demands despite the situation, Barry couldn’t help but to admire her. “Because if you do, _I’m_ going to tell them about you. Don’t forget, Mr _Berkman._ I wasn’t the only one on the news.”

“You don’t have to threaten me, kid,” he said calmly, almost amused. “I told you, you can trust me. I’m a good person, remember? I won’t hurt you, and I won’t let them hurt you either.”

Syd’s cold glare softened for a split second before it hardened again. “Why did you kill all of those people then? If you’re a good guy? The dead mafia thing, I don’t mind. They probably had it coming. But that guy, your acting teacher, he said you killed a cop. And not just any cop. A cop you’d actually gotten to know pretty well through your teacher.”

Barry took a moment to consider his answer so he wouldn’t further traumatise the girl. “I was told that the people I killed were bad people, and I’d believed it for a long time. I had stopped killing when Janice, the cop, found out about me. My life was going so well then. I had a girlfriend and a decent life where I wouldn’t have to kill anyone, so I wasn’t ready to lose it all when Janice told me she was arresting me. I had no choice.”

“She was going to destroy your whole life by telling the world about your secret,” Syd said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, swallowing heavily. Then, as if there was a switch, Syd’s whole demeanour changed. She was still a little tense, yes, but she was giving him a hint of a smile.

He took that as a good start.


	2. I'm goin' away for a long time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Syd wished with all her might that Barry would be alright. She wasn’t ready to lose him yet.
> 
> They still had to sell their Stephen King-type of story to Steven Spielberg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sooo glad I finally finished this story! It's been really, really, really fun writing this. I think this is my favourite story so far that I wrote this year huehue :D I'm sorry it took me some time to finish though. Long story short, taking a masters degree wasn't as easy as I thought it would, especially not during the pandemic. But yeah, I managed to finish this, and I'm actually super proud of this. I hope you guys like it too ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading this, and stay safe, everyone! <3

The windows burst into smithereens before Syd had even realised what she had done. But she didn't falter one bit. When the federal agents shot her and Barry again, she moved the nearest tables closer to form a shield around them. She waited patiently behind the tables, using the extra time to check Barry's condition. He wasn't completely unconscious, and his eyes were still fluttering open every once in a while. But he was unresponsive when she tried to get his attention. Blood was soon staining her hands as she pressed them over his wounds, and it took all her might to keep focused and not think of that disastrous homecoming. She was aware that the tables blocking them wouldn't hold forever. She had to do something to get herself and Barry out of there.

With a half-assed plan in mind, she listened closely for the moment the agents would stop firing to reload their guns. When they finally did, she quickly flipped the tables at the agents before dragging Barry away from the scene with the help of her powers. Some of the agents didn't take long to recover though, and they were soon already reaching for their guns again. It was pure instinct that caused her to lift up her hand up and direct her power at them, creating an invisible wall to hold them back. She used her free hand to help her pull along Barry's unconscious figure. But more agents were recovering, and even when she was forced to use both of her hands to hold them back, there were simply too many of them coming from all sides. She began to grow panicked, fearing what would happen if she could not hold the agents back. She would be taken away to be experimented on, and Barry would bleed to death and—

There was a loud screech of tires as a car flew into the diner where the windows had been before Syd had destroyed them, nearly running over the agents that were standing there. The agents all scattered to avoid it, and although Syd should have been hit by the car too, she had the advantage of being a freak. Taking her attention from the agents, who were too busy running around, Syd flipped her palm up at the car, using another invisible wall to stop it from hitting her and Barry. She huffed out a groan when the force of the car ramming into the shield pushed her a couple of inches back, and she briefly wondered how fast the car had been going. When the door to the front passenger side of the car was opened, Syd was ready to attack, not caring that they'd technically saved her life and Barry's from getting shot at by the agents. But then she heard the familiar tune of _Hey Little Girl_ by Bloodwitch, and her eyes widened when she saw the familiar head of crazy curls and a cheeky, dimpled smile.

"Stan," she breathed out, feeling a huge weight lift off of her shoulders for the first time in two weeks.

"Hi, Syd," the boy replied. His smile widened to epic proportions as he came over and grabbed onto Barry's uninjured side. "Need any help?"

"Fuck yeah!" Syd half-laughed, sounding hysterical even to her own ears. She bent down to grab onto Barry's other side, but the agents were back to aiming their guns at them. She couldn't possibly carry Barry _and_ hold the agents back. Stanley seemed to share her worries, because he then turned his attention on the other passenger in the car and yelled their name.

"Hank, help!" Stanley called.

The man named Hank got out of the car and rushed to Barry's other side to hold him up, moving carefully to avoid further injuring him. Syd briefly noted his obviously fake blond wig and loud Hawaiian shirt before focusing her attention back on the FBI agents. This time she didn't even bother holding them back, and was throwing them across the room instead with a flick of her hand so she could get to the car quickly. She slipped into the backseat with Barry, who was completely unconscious now as he swayed to the side, nearly crushing Syd under the weight of his bleeding torso. Syd immediately pressed her hands back onto Barry's wounds, vaguely acknowledging Stanley yelling at the man with the wig to floor the gas so they could get away from the FBI agents, to which the man obliged hastily. He had a Russian-like accent when he warned them that their ride was going to be bumpy, swerving left and right like mad to avoid getting shot at. When Syd finally got a proper look at him in the rear-view mirror, his dark eyes found hers first, and he had a grin on his face.

"Hey, there!" he greeted cheerfully, as if getting chased and shot at by FBI agents was just his average Tuesday. "You must be Sydney. I'm Hank. I'm a friend of Barry's."

“Hi,” Syd replied tensely, feeling herself panicking even more when she saw how her hands were practically drenched in Barry’s blood. “Say, Hank, do you know any shoddy clinic out here that will tend to Barry’s wounds without any questions?”

Hank’s bright grin faltered as he turned his head slightly to look at Barry. “Uh, I don’t think so? I actually have never been out of LA, to be honest.”

“Aw, _shit_ ,” Stanley cussed. His body was twisting in a weird angle as he reached for the bag lying by Syd’s legs. He grabbed a wad of tissue and gave it to her. “Here. Use this for now while Hank and I look for a clinic or something. _God,_ I can’t believe a fucking mobster like you doesn’t know any shoddy clinics.”

“Well, I know one in fucking _LA_ ,” Hank snapped, pouting at Stanley immaturely. If Syd wasn’t so busy freaking out over Barry, it would probably have made her laugh. “Like I’ve said before. I’ve never been out of LA. I’m not even American, remember?”

“Can’t you call anyone to ask about this? Like, don’t you have contacts to help you with this kind of shit when you need it? Someone out here that owes you a favour?”

“ _Ugh,_ you ask too many questions, Stanley! And even if I do know someone, I can’t possibly call them right now. I’m _driving,_ and it’s dangerous to call when you drive.”

“ _Oh for fuck’s sake!_ Gimme the fucking phone then. Tell me their contact name so I can call them for you. Problem solved.”

“My phone is in my back pocket.”

“Explain to me how you are a mob boss?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

At that point, thankfully, they’d gotten far enough from the agents, they were no longer getting shot at. However, it only made Hank more insistent in winning his argument with Stanley. Tuning out of their ridiculous row, Syd’s mind flew back to the whole homecoming disaster. When she’d mentally told Brad to shut up, something else had crossed her mind. For a split second, in between her continuous _‘shuttup, shuttup, shuttup’,_ she had wished that she could take away Brad’s ability to talk— _permanently._ She’d thought about taking away his voice, his _mouth,_ just so he would stop talking shit about her. The more she thought about that, the more she was convinced that if she’d had enough practice, she could have done it. She could have taken away Brad’s mouth for real. It could have killed him too, but that was beside the point. The thought had sparked a different idea altogether inside her. An idea on how she could prevent Barry from dying. She’d never done anything like it though. But hell, just the other day, she wouldn’t have been able to do _half_ the things she’d done in the diner. She knew that if she failed, it might be fatal for Barry. But she convinced herself that if she didn’t try it, he’d die anyway.

Like Barry had said before, they simply had no choice.

Taking a deep breath, with one hand hovering over Barry’s wounds, her mind loudly screamed—

_STOP!_

It wasn’t visible through all the blood, but Syd could feel it. She could feel Barry’s blood stop pouring out from the wounds. But she had to keep her focus on it though, because the blood streamed out again the moment she turned her attention away. Keeping one hand on Barry’s chest, she tapped Stanley’s shoulder once to get his attention. He instantly stopped arguing with Hank and looked at her.

“Yes, Syd?” he said. He was holding what she assumed was Hank’s phone, his thumb scrolling down the man’s contact list.

“I stopped it,” she breathed out, feeling drained. She hadn’t thought that manipulating Barry’s blood would exert so much of her power, more than it had been when she was wrecking havoc in the diner. She figured it was because manipulating the body of a living, breathing _human_ was much more difficult than throwing inanimate objects around.

“Stopped what?”

“The blood.”

“ _What?”_ cried both Stanley and Hank in unison, whipping their heads around toward Barry, then their eyes settled on where Syd’s hand was still hovering over Barry’s chest. Stanley grabbed his water bottle then, and poured it over the wounds to clean them. Sure enough, they all could see how the blood-flow has ceased.

“Oh, wow,” Hank said in wonder, alternating between looking at the wounds and at the road. “When I heard that you had powers, I didn’t think it would _literally_ be like this.”

“This is amazing, Syd!” Stanley said. He was beaming up at her, genuinely supportive of her as always. “I told you you’re an _actual_ superhero, didn’t I.”

“Shut it, Stan,” she said, but there was a small smile on her face so Stanley would know she wasn’t upset. “Just get us to a clinic as soon as possible. I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

“Okay, okay… There, I’ve called your ‘friend’, Hank. I’ve put it on loudspeaker too. You just need to talk to them.”

As she quietly listened in on Hank’s cheerful greeting, Syd wished with all her might that Barry would be alright. She believed that if she wished hard enough, it would become true. After all, that was basically how her powers worked. She wished that she could do something impossible, and it happened. So she closed her eyes, and willed her powers to do something, _anything,_ to help Barry. She wasn’t ready to lose him yet.

They still had to sell their _Stephen_ King-type of story to _Steven_ Spielberg.

* * *

“Can I go the convenience store?” Syd asked, hoping that her face wasn’t flushing red, despite the embarrassment she felt. Taking a quick glance at her lap, she breathed a little easier when she saw that her jacket hadn’t moved.

As if she hadn’t done that fifty times already in the past hour.

“Uh, I was thinking that we’re here only to fill the tank,” Barry said. He was obviously trying to choose his words carefully in denying Syd’s request. “We’re a bit behind on our schedule, remember?”

“Yeah, but I really, _really_ need to go the convenience story,” she insisted. Desperate. Fortunately for her, it made her more confident. “There is um… something I need to buy. And it’s important. For me. Because I’m a _girl,_ and I really need it. Like, right now. Until at least next week.”

Barry’s eyes were blank for a moment as he stared at her, processing her words. But Syd could see the moment he finally understood what she meant, because his eyes widened comically and his jaw clenched in that way she knew was a telltale sign that he was nervous. Barry was generally very reserved in showing his emotions, even when it was _really_ fucking early in the morning and no normal human should be able to police their emotions that well. But after being around him literally 24/7 for the past week, she understood that Barry expressed his feelings through the clench of his jaw. It wasn’t really telling, but that was how she could tell that he was upset after he saw the people he’d called his _friends_ from acting class talking shit about him. It was also how she knew that he was embarrassed when a group of middle-aged yoga mums flirted with him that one and only time they went to a Starbucks. The only other facial expression she’d seen on him was the small, almost shy smile he had when he told her that he’d almost gotten a part in a comedy movie just before his life turned to shit. Syd wouldn’t admit it out loud to _anyone,_ not even at gun point, but the more time she spent with Barry, the more comfortable she felt around him.

The more he reminded her of her _father._

An intense feeling of guilt filled her the moment the thought crossed her mind, and she had to clench her hands together stop herself from literally pushing Barry away. As if by doing so, it could stop whatever traitorous feelings she had about how much she saw her father in him. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she nodded at the convenience store and said, “So? Can I go?”

“Uh, y-yes. Sure,” Barry stammered. He made a show of unbuckling his seat-belt and noisily searching for his wallet as he opened his door. By the time he was halfway out of the car, he pulled out another hundred dollar bill and gave it to her. “Here. You can buy anything else you want to. If you think it’ll help you feel better. Like chocolate. Or ice cream.”

_Stop being so fucking nice, dammit!_

“Thanks,” Syd murmured softly. She was hastily tying her jacket around her waist, eager to get out of the car as quickly as possible, when Barry dropped _his_ jacket on her lap.

“It’s bigger,” he said casually with a shrug when Syd turned a questioning look at him. “You can wear it and it’ll cover you all the way to your knees. Just in case your jacket isn’t enough.”

Syd thought of refusing, but she knew he was right. Muttering another round of thanks to him, she slipped into his jacket and slung her bag over her clothes. She quickly got out of the car then, pretending that she hadn’t seen the way he clenched his jaw again. Once she got into the store, she went to the shelf that held rows of menstrual pads and grabbed three boxes. She immediately paid for them so she could quickly put one on. When she got out of the toilet a while later, she saw that Barry was standing by the cooler, his eyes scanning the rows of ice cream in front of him. Syd slowly went to the shelves closest to him, grateful that her small build kept her safely hidden from Barry's line of sight behind the shelves. From where she was standing, she could see that in the basket hanging on his arm, he’d taken chocolate bars, bags of chips, water bottles, and paracetamol. When she saw that he later added two cartons of ice cream, Syd knew that he’d done all of that for _her._

In that moment, all of the walls she’d built up to make sure she didn’t form any sort of attachment to Barry crumbled like a Lego tower.

Syd wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t blind. She’d seen immediately the similarities between Barry and her father after only a day of spending time with him. Both men were quiet, they were never overt in expressing their emotions, but they were always all-out when it came to showering people with their kindness. She also noticed how the both of them were weighed down and haunted by the guilt of the people they’d killed; Barry because of his profession as a hitman and Syd’s father because of his powers. From then on, Syd had instantly begun to grow fond of Barry. All of this was before she’d found out that Barry was in the Marines too, and had served around the same time Syd’s father had. They didn’t know each other though, which Barry had told her before she could ask him. She didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. All she knew, however, was that she couldn’t get too close to Barry. Not because he was a dangerous man who could very well kill her without breaking a sweat, despite the fact that Syd was the one with the freaking superpowers. But because Syd felt like it was betraying her father _and_ mother if she grew to care too much about Barry. She couldn’t even spend a minute without yelling at her mother since after her father’s death. It would be unfair to either of her parents if she became attached to Barry.

Besides, Barry hadn’t told her what his plans were once they’d gotten to Canada.

She knew that the man had only agreed to her tagging along with him because no one would suspect the both of them if they were traveling together. Their paths were unlikely to cross. But at the same time, it would be unwise if they kept going together, seeing that they had almost the whole country looking for them. Syd understood that Barry would ditch her the moment they crossed the border. This meant that she was correct in her decision to distance herself from Barry. The man did the same thing with her after all. He never talked much about himself, and he didn’t ask about her either. He only talked about where they were going and what their cover would be. Logically, it should be easy for Syd to keep herself from forming attachments with him. But, dammit, the man was just _so nice_. He ate only once every day because he thought his money could be used for far better things than his own sustenance. Yet at the same time, he always made sure she ate enough _three_ times a day. He was extremely understanding of her discomfort at being in such close proximity with him for every hour of the day, so that Syd rarely saw him in their room.

The more Syd thought about all that Barry had done for her, the more she realised that it was futile for her to distance herself from Barry. And she _hated_ it. She didn’t want to become attached to him, not when she was so sure he’d leave her once she no longer served a purpose to him. She already had a father who she knew had loved and adored her. Yet the man had left her anyway. Syd wasn’t going to let another father figure hurt her just because she was too much of a clingy wimp. But what terrified her the most wasn’t being abandoned by Barry. What terrified her the most was the thought that one day, after a long time of travelling together and slowly growing to care for one another as if they were an actual father and daughter, Syd would lose control of her powers and accidentally _kill_ Barry. Like she had killed Brad. Like her father had killed all those men, his own unit included. She could deal with people she cared about leaving her. She _had_ dealt with that already. But she didn’t think she could stand the guilt of killing them. Hell, she still had nightmares about _killing Brad_ , and he was an utter dick.

No. Syd couldn’t afford to become too close with Barry, lest she’d kill him by accident.

But every second the man spent with her was a second he risked _dying,_ because she literally was like a walking bomb. And she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she made an object fly at Barry’s head when she was losing her temper, like she’d almost done to Stanley. Or _worse_ , what if she blew Barry up, into pieces, like she’d done to Brad’s—

“Syd? Sydney? Hey, come back to me, kid.”

Syd blinked once, and found Barry's bright blue eyes looking at her with worry. Instantly, the shelves around them stopped shaking and the ground beneath them stilled. But there were some goods that had fallen onto the ground, and she could hear people talking in distress about 'the earthquake'. She felt Barry squeeze her shoulder once, bringing her focus back to him. His face broke out into a relieved smile then, even though he was still clenching his jaw tightly. "Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she mumbled. She swallowed over the lump in her throat, felt how fast her heart was beating. "I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to."

Barry shook his head and squeezed her shoulder again. "I know. Don’t worry about it. I was just worried that you'd be... lost? I don't know what the appropriate fucking term is. But it was a while before I could get you to snap out of it."

“I didn’t hurt anyone… did I?” Syd inquired hesitantly. She eyed Barry closely, knowing that if he’d been trying to get her out of her sort-of trance, he’d be in the most danger. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” he replied, giving her another smile. But it quickly fell and was replaced with a grimace when he looked around the store and saw how the store manager was frantically talking on the phone. “Come on. Let’s pay for this and then we’ll get out of here.”

“Yeah, alright,” she said as she quickly followed Barry.

“Find us a hotel near a clearing, by the way,” he said once they were back in the car, nodding at her phone. “If it’s not possible, just find us a clearing first. Somewhere we can have some privacy.”

“Uh, what is it for?” Syd asked, her eyes scanning the maps on the phone screen.

“ _You_ are going to train your power, and _I_ will help you with that. Somehow.”

There was a pregnant pause as Barry pulled out of the parking lot, one eye on the road while the other was looking at Syd’s phone, and then—

“ _ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?”_

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Barry had only been shot twice despite his line of work. The first time was when he was still in the Marines, and the second when he first became a hitman and hadn’t really settled into his new job. But then again, he wouldn’t be such a competent hitman— _Fuches’ words, not his—_ if he spent too much of his time getting shot at. Two times was more than what the normal person ever experienced anyway. Come to think about it, Barry had rarely ever gotten injured before. Not even when he was smack dab in the middle of a war zone, with bullets flying around and bombs exploding just ten feet away from him. His friend Albert Nguyen always said that Barry was fucking lucky, and that he was like their unit’s personal good luck charm. He’d said that Barry’s presence alone could keep them all safe throughout their time in Afghanistan. But in the end Albert was wrong. He was standing _right next_ to Barry when he got fucking shot in the neck.

Barry was convinced that Albert had it the other way around. _Albert_ was the good luck charm, at least for Barry. Because his life had been spiraling into a shit-show ever since Albert’s death.

After he took the bullets meant for Syd, Barry could still vaguely acknowledge the girl wrecking havoc all around them as she tried her best to get them out of the diner. He was mostly out of it though, even if he could still feel himself getting lifted off the ground and into a car. Before he completely lost consciousness, he thought he’d heard Syd talking to someone. He couldn’t be sure though. For all he knew, that could have been his dying brain hallucinating. Barry just hoped that if Syd really was talking to someone, they were good people that would help Syd cross the border to Canada and build a new life. But if they weren’t, he had faith that Syd could take care of them. She was a smart girl, and pretty fucking resourceful. She’d gotten herself all the way to Seattle from Brownsville by threatening him, a former Marine and seasoned hitman, while having the police hot on her tail. Considering that she hadn’t ever been without her parents’ supervision before, she’d done a great job keeping herself alive this whole time. Plus, she had fucking _superpowers_. Sydney Novak would be _alright_. And Barry was pretty content dying with the knowledge that the girl would be doing fine.

He could finally rest.

But it looked like the Universe wasn’t ready to let him go yet, because after God-knew how long he’d spent unconscious, Barry could feel himself waking up. Although he was probably waking up because of the hand cradling the back of his head gently pushing him into a sitting position from the pillow he was lying on. It took him a moment to figure out that it wasn’t a pillow, but it was actually someone’s leg. He didn’t feel like opening his eyes though, so he relied on the rest of his senses to figure out his surroundings for a while. He could tell from the way his legs were uncomfortably twisted and crammed to fit the tight space, he was currently in the backseat of a car. It wasn’t moving though, and Barry was grateful for it because he felt like puking. He heard voices whispering around him; two of them sounded familiar to his ears, and he could tell that one of them was Syd’s. It was when he felt something plastic pressing against his lips that Barry finally decided to open his eyes.

The first thing he saw was the straw from the water bottle in front of him. As he took a small sip, his eyes traveled from the bottle to the hand holding it, then slowly to the person that the arm belonged to. His only warning was the most offensive _neon_ - _pink_ Hawaiian shirt before his eyes landed on the grinning face of sodding _Hank_ of all people. And Barry nearly choked on his water.

“What the _fuck,”_ Barry coughed out.

“Hey, man!” Hank greeted in his usual sing-song tone, even as he gently hit Barry’s back to help him with his breathing. “Are you feeling alright?”

Barry took a deep breath, grimacing when his chest twinged a little where he knew he’d been shot. He straightened in his seat carefully, lest he’d damage his newly-tended, freshly-bandaged wounds. Swallowing thickly, he weakly murmured, “Why are you here?”

Without missing a beat, his ever-present smile still plastered on his face, Hank said, “I’m here to help you, of course. You kind of did me a _huge_ favour that night when you killed everyone in that monastery. I don’t know whether you got my message or not, but I owe it a lot to you for everything I now have. So, when I found out that you were in trouble, I told Batir that I had to go away for sometime to lay low, what with the cops trying to figure out who’d captained our friends— _you really shouldn’t have killed them, by the way._ Batir agreed and gave me a month, and—“

“Hank, Hank,” Barry interrupted, knowing how the man could go into a tangent if no one stopped him. “Hank, just tell me how you found me? And where’s Syd? The redheaded girl who came with me?”

“I’m right here,” Syd’s said before Hank could answer him. She poked her head out from behind Hank’s shoulder, giving Barry a timid smile and an equally timid wave. He let out a small sigh upon seeing her, relieved.

“Are you okay?” Barry asked, his eyes scanning her for possible injuries. He only took his eyes from her when he was convinced she was alright, only to land on the teenage boy standing awkwardly beside her. He was tall and lanky, wearing a brightly-coloured shirt that could have been Hank’s from how obnoxious it was, an aviator tucked safely in his thick mop of curls.

Syd immediately noticed the change of his attention, her head nodding stiffly as she pulled the boy closer toward her. “I’m okay,” she answered. “This is my best friend Stanley, by the way. He and Hank helped us before the FBI agents could kill us.”

“Hello, sir,” Stanley said nervously. His hand twitched weirdly, as if he was going to offer it for a handshake but changed his mind.

“Hello,” Barry replied flatly, staring the boy down in what he hoped was a menacing way. It seemed to work though, because Stanley’s already pale skin visibly paled even more. He was somewhat pleased to see it, and he ended up missing the glint in Hank’s eyes until it was too late.

“Wow, Barry, you took this father-daughter thing seriously, didn’t you?” Hank said with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Looks like fatherhood is another thing you’ll excel at outside of being a badass hitman.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hank,” Barry grumbled, glaring at Hank who just widened his grin. Deciding to ignore the infuriating asshole, Barry turned his attention back to Stanley, who was biting back his own grin as he nudged a scowling Syd. But his amused grin faltered the moment his eyes caught Barry’s again, and Barry amped up his glare when he spoke to him again. “Tell me, _bud,_ how did you and Hank find us?”

Stanley opened and closed his mouth like a fish, sharing a look with Syd who just shrugged. For some reason, the boy seemed hesitant to answer Barry. The longer Stanley took to choose his words, the more impatient Barry got, to the point where he considered just snapping at him. But Stanley obviously had figured out a way that wouldn’t get him killed when he answered Barry, before Barry could yell at him.

“I saw you and Syd leaving together that night,” Stanley began. “I knew she couldn’t stay in Brownsville after what she’d done to Brad, so I decided right away that I’d be coming with her wherever she went. After homecoming, I headed back home to pack anything I could in only five minutes, and then went to Syd’s house to pick her up. I tried calling her but she wasn’t answering. I was calling her for the third time when I noticed the road lights were flickering one by one. I knew then that the lights would lead me to Syd, so I followed them. I was too late though. By the time I got to where she was, Syd was already getting into your car, and you immediately sped away like mad once she was in. I tried to follow you, but you were simply too fast. It was only half an hour later when I lost you.”

"How did you run into Hank though?" Barry asked. "He's in LA. Unless he flew all the way to Pittsburgh, you two wouldn't have met."

"I had help from one of Goran's contacts," Hank answered for Stanley. "He owed me a favour, so I asked him to find you. He somehow found you in Pittsburgh and told me about it. So yes, I _did_ fly in to Pittsburgh, tried to pick up your trail, and ran into Stanley instead. I saw him writing down your information from the TV in this café, and I thought, 'Hey! That's not normal! This boy probably knows something.' I approached him, asked what he was doing writing down your info like that. He said that he saw his friend, a girl whose face also appeared on the TV after you, leave her hometown in a car with you."

"Long story short, we then agreed that we'd work together to find you two," Stanley added. "And as you can see, we did just that. Good thing that we found you right on time."

"How exactly did you find us?" Syd asked this time. "You haven't told me about that."

"Oh, we just followed wherever there was news about an earthquake," Stanley said. "Based on the route you took, we managed to figure out that you were heading for Canada. We tried to get ahead of you but you guys were always too fast. We were always a few hours too late though. We always missed you."

"Except for the last earthquake in Seattle," Hank butted in. "We were right there when it happened. We followed you to the clearing where Syd first trained, and we've been following you ever since. But Stanley and I agreed not to immediately come to you, because we weren't sure either of you would take kindly to us following you. We kept a distance from you guys to make sure Barry wouldn't notice us on your trail. So, we stayed in rooms not too far from you, and always kept a few feet between our cars. I told Stanley here that you have a fantastic aim and wouldn't think twice about shooting me on the spot again, Barry.”

"I wouldn't have shot you in front of a kid, Hank," Barry quickly said defensively. Something tugged at his heart when he thought that Hank, someone who had always been in his corner even when Barry was a dick to him, believed that Barry wouldn't hesitate in shooting him. Clenching his jaw, Barry quietly said, "Hell, at this point, I don't think I would have shot you. You're the only friend I have left now. You're the _only_ friend I have."

The smile on Hank's face widened to epic proportions. His dark eyes were big and round like a child’s at Christmas. He blinked once but said nothing except for the small laugh that escaped him. Barry turned back to Syd and Stanley, pretending that he hadn't noticed the way Hank's eyes got a bit shiny with tears. He was grateful when Syd made a discrete nod and turned to her best friend to ask a question.

"Where were you this morning, when the FBI came?" Syd asked.

"In our room. We were woken up by another earthquake we assumed was because of you. Then we saw you run out of the room toward the direction of the diner. Barry came out later with your bags. He took some time putting them into the car before he followed you. It was only a while later though, when we noticed a mob of armed people coming from almost every direction, that we followed. We knew right away that they were after you. We sneaked into our own car with our belongings, which we luckily parked not far from the diner, ready to come to your rescue. Then the windows all around the diner exploded, and we knew that it was time. The rest is history."

Hank nodded excessively at Barry, the gesture reminding him absurdly of a bobble-head. "We drove into the diner right when Syd was fighting off the onslaught of bullets, carried Barry into the car, and went as fast as we could to get away from the FBI. It was only after we were sure we weren't being tailed that we went to a clinic. The doctor there also owed me a favour, so I told him to get you all fixed up and to give us his car. I promised him that I'd ask Goran to get someone to replace it. He said he’s rather fond of this car.”

“Right,” Barry said slowly, feeling overwhelmed. He took a moment to process everything before he spoke again. “So… Where are we now? And what’s our next plan?”

Hank gave him a giddy grin, the kind he’d had that day on the rooftop when Barry offered to train his men. Immediately, Barry knew the man had planned something insane _and_ stupid _._

Crossing his arms smugly, Hank said, “You, my friend, are going to leave the country with your two ‘children’. As a thank you gift from me and Batir. I was thinking Australia? I feel like a tan would be good for you—“

_“Hank, what the fuck?”_

But Hank wasn’t listening to him. His attention had turned to Stanley, who’d whooped loudly the moment ‘Australia’ left Hank’s mouth, and was extending his open palm to Syd for a high five that she returned with a roll of her eyes, despite the small smile on her face. The kids’ reaction brought a huge smile to Hank’s face, and he was soon busy planning the logistics with Stanley, with Syd giving her input every once in awhile. Barry could only sigh in exasperation as he watched the three of them argue on where exactly in Australia they should live. Closing his eyes and leaning back in his seat, he began to relax for the first time in years, since Korengal, and felt a smile tugging at his lips.

Australia _did_ sound like a great place for him to start completely anew.

* * *

"I'm going to throw this tennis ball at you again, and you have to flick it to the side."

"Dammit, man; we've been at this for hours! Hell, we've been practising for a _week_! You know that unless the object is immobile, I can't move it. How many times do I have to fucking _fail_ for you to understand that?"

"Failure is unacceptable in the Marines. So, no. I don't think I'll ever accept that, Syd."

"Well, in case you _fail_ to notice, I am not a Marine, Barry. I'm a fucking teenager, and it's perfectly fucking _normal_ for us to fail."

"Not when you're hunted down by the whole nation for using your superpowers to kill your classmate, you don't. If you want to survive, you do as I say and _flick—this—fucking—ball_.”

**_CRASH!_ **

****

“There. I flicked the ball. Happy?”

“You broke the car’s left rear-view mirror, so not exactly.”

“ _UGH! YOU ARE SO INFURIATING!”_

“Right back at you, sweetheart.”

Barry knew he was playing with fire. He knew he might as well sign his own death certificate by pissing Syd off. But he had to make sure that the girl could protect herself without him around. After all, they'd agreed to go their separate ways once they got to Canada. It was for the best. She was better off without him. He couldn't afford having her becoming too attached to him. It was bad enough that _Barry_ was getting attached. And wasn’t that idea terrifying? Him, a certified psychopath, getting attached to a girl because he’d suddenly grown fond of the idea of becoming _her father._ But at least he was a fully grown man who was trained to shut down his personal feelings if he wanted to survive. He could deal with it, he had done it before. Syd though, she was too young, and she'd lost so many people already. Training her how to control her power was the least he could do before he fucked off to wherever no one knew his true identity. Preferably as far away as possible from Syd. Canada was huge. Hopefully he could find somewhere safe for him to hide for the next five years or so. He probably would need to fake his death or something, to get the cops off his trail. But that was for later. For now, he had to help Syd gain complete control of her powers.

“Barry, come _on,”_ Syd groaned, stomping her foot immaturely. “I did that once already. Can we _please_ stop? I’m starving!”

“You do that two more times, and then we’ll stop,” Barry replied. “I’ll even take you to eat in a proper restaurant.”

Syd glared murderously at him, and Barry had no doubt that her looks could _literally_ kill him if he goaded her any more. So, with a tight clench of his jaw, he silently told her to try again with a quick nod of his head. He threw another tennis ball at her, and it hit Syd right on her arm. He threw another tennis ball, and it fell just a couple of feet away from her. Like it almost always did since they’d started her training. They’d been staying at the same motel for a week, which made Barry restless because they had never stayed that long in one place during their journey together. But that was the only motel they could find with a wide clearing nearby for Syd to practise. It left them with no choice. Barry just had to make sure that he had his guns with him at all times, always alert for possible danger even with his attention partly set on Syd. In the past week since they’d started training, Syd had only managed to flick the ball away twice before. Every single time, she would flash him a wide smile that made her seem even younger than she actually was—and both times, Barry would just brush it aside callously. He could see that his reaction hurt the girl, but Barry had done this before.

He’d done this whole mentoring thing already, and he’d done a piss poor job at that.

Mayrbeck’s corpse, complete with the fucking bullet in his skull, could vouch him for that.

Barry wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the way Syd looked at him. He knew she saw him as a replacement for the father she’d lost. He couldn’t allow that. Barry was the last person on Earth that should be allowed to father a child. Probably second only after Fuches, that manipulative bastard. It should be a crime for people like him and Fuches to have children. Hell, they couldn’t even become a decent mentor without completely fucking things up. Fuches had ruined Barry, and Barry had followed in his footsteps and completely destroyed Mayrbeck. _Fuck_ , he shouldn’t have allowed Syd to come with him in the first place. He could already tell that the month they’d spent together was going to have an ugly impact on the girl’s life. Barry had made the right decision by keeping Syd at arm’s length from him. He couldn’t let her get too attached to him, not if he wanted her to have a better life than the one she would have if she stuck with him. Fortunately for him though, his plan seemed to be working. After a week of getting yelled at by him, Syd was now treating him coolly, and there was a hostile look that was ever present in her eyes. If she wasn’t giving him the cold-shoulder, she would yell back at him with even crueler words.

Which was good. Barry had figured out that Syd’s power is centered on her temperament. The angrier she was, the better she could harness her power. And that meant that she would be free from Barry even sooner. Someone as young and innocent as her shouldn’t have someone as fucked up as Barry in their life. He had to get away from the girl as soon as possible. That would be the first thing he’d do once she’d gained full control of her power. They weren’t that far from Canada. He just hoped that by the time they got there, Syd could finally—

_“Goddammit, Syd!”_ Barry snapped when _another_ tennis ball hit Syd, this time on her face. “Were you even trying at all, kid?”

“OKAY, THAT’S IT!” Syd screamed, causing the tennis ball around her to levitate in a threatening manner. She didn’t seem to realise it though as she stomped closer toward Barry, her green eyes alight in fury. “I’ve had enough with your _bullshit,_ Berkman! Cut it out, okay? I’ve tried my best to…to fucking learn how to control my powers. But it’s not that easy, you dick! And you being a complete asshole about it doesn’t help _at all!”_

Barry was aware that he was a grown-man who was trained to be in full control of his emotions. So he should know better than to retort back at a teenager who was more dangerous than _two_ platoon of Marines combined. But of course, like he did most of the time, Barry made a horrible mistake.

“You’re right,” Barry replied coolly, glaring right back at Syd unflinchingly, despite the threat of death-by-the-hundred-tennis-balls that were still hovering around the girl. “It doesn’t help at all. _You_ are the only one who can help yourself. Not me, not your so-called best friends, and definitely not your _dead_ father who went and killed himself just because he couldn’t deal with the guilt of killing innocents.”

“Shut up,” Syd hissed, stepping closer toward Barry, the tennis balls following dutifully. “If you know what’s best for you, Barry, you better—“

“No, Sydney Novak. If _you_ know what’s best for you, you better stop moping about how unfair life is to you, and get a fucking grip on your powers. There’s no one else who can help you but yourself, kid. And if you don’t do that sooner, you might as well just blow my head off.”

_“Fucking shut up, Barry—“_

“You know; like you did with _Brad._ Because you know what? We’re as good as dead if you don’t. You’ll either attract unwanted attention, or kill _me_ by accident. So, just fucking do it no—“

_“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”_

Barry barely had the time to flinch when the tennis balls around Syd flew past him, raining hard onto the trees behind him like a barrage of machine guns. Then his car roared to life and moved all on its own toward them, stopping right beside Syd. The door to the passenger side opened and Syd slid inside wordlessly. It all happened in the blink of an eye, if Barry was to be honest. But for him, the guilt had started to set in even before the first of the tennis balls landed on the tree. That was totally uncalled for, what he’d said to Syd. He was lucky she hadn’t actually killed him. He wouldn’t even be surprised if she did. At this point, he kind of wished that she _had_ killed him. Stopping her from getting too attached didn’t mean he had the right to insult her like that. If Fuches had something like that to him, Barry would have definitely punched him. Running a tired hand through his hair, he went to the driver’s seat and drove to the new motel they’d agreed on that morning. The ride to the motel took a couple of hours, and the whole time Barry’s mind was whirring, trying to find the words to apologise to Syd. When they finally reached the motel, it was already too late. Barry quickly parked the car in the first spot he could find, turned the engine off and turned to Syd. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, an apology already at the tip of his tongue. But Syd beat him to it.

“You know, Barry,” Syd started without looking at him. “Just because you’re a psychotic murderer, doesn’t mean you can be a dick to anyone.”

“Sydney—“

The girl had gotten out of the car, closing the door gently behind her.

It felt more like a harsh slam to Barry though.

* * *

Syd felt Stanley coming to her long before she could hear him. While the boy was always freakishly light on his feet, almost as if he floated instead of walked, Syd could always tell when Stanley was close. She supposed she had her powers to thank for that. Even before she’d truly acknowledged them, when they’d first they manifested, Syd realised that they had always acted as some sort of radar for her. But if she was being honest with herself, her powers were never on alert when Stanley was near. It was if they knew that out of everyone in the world, Stanley was the one she could always rely on. The only person that got the same treatment was Liam, and that definitely could have clued Syd in that she could trust Stanley, since the very beginning. Dina was the best friend Syd could ever ask for, and there was never a doubt in Syd’s mind that her mother would ever hurt her, even when they couldn’t stand each other. But her relationship with both women were difficult. It had always been like that. Unlike how things were with Liam, and with Stanley. Unlike how it had been with her father.

Unlike it was now with Barry.

Despite being a female herself, Syd found them _very_ confusing.

“Alright, Syd?” Stanley asked as he took a seat beside her on top of the car’s front hood. He pulled out his small box of weed and passed some to her, which Syd took graciously.

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a slow but deep breath of the lint pressed between her lips after she lit it up. “I mean, I think this will add to my mental trauma that I doubt will _ever_ go away. But at least, I’m not hurt. Huge thanks to Barry.”

“True,” Stanley hummed in agreement. He sighed heavily and leaned back, one hand behind his head while the other took the weed from Syd. “How is he doing, by the way? I imagine he’s still in a lot of pain. He just got shot roughly ten hours ago.”

“I suppose he’s doing relatively okay, considering the situation. It helps that we have Hank to fuss over him like an overbearing mother. Because I doubt Barry would willingly ask for painkillers if Hank hadn’t shoved them down his throat.”

A small smile began to tug at her lips, and it didn’t take long before Syd was sharing a quiet laugh with Stanley as they remembered how Hank had force-fed Barry painkillers the moment he realised the hitman was hiding the fact that he was in pain. It was rather hilarious, seeing both grown, supposedly _extremely_ dangerous men bickering like children. Syd could tell, though, that Barry secretly appreciated all that Hank had done for him. Just because he kept quiet about it didn’t mean that Barry was blind to it. And Syd understood very well, considering how she’d been trying to figure out a way to thank Stanley. Like her, Barry just had problems expressing his gratitude. That was the most difficult thing about being incredibly awkward and rather emotionally inept—the struggle to even _be nice_ to people that they actually liked and cared about. It was very fortunate that people like Stanley and Hank seemed to understand that they were dealing with complete idiots like Syd and Barry.

But Syd had done quite a bit of thinking in the past few hours. And if Barry, who couldn’t even order coffee without making a complete fool of himself, could sincerely tell Hank that he was the only friend he had, surely Syd could do better.

Out of the both of them, they’d agreed that Syd was the more emotionally stable. Comes with the fact that she was a girl. Everyone knew that boys _were_ stupid. Even good ones like Stanley.

Well, except for Liam. Her brother was just a wonder.

“I never really got to thank you,” Syd began, her voice breaking a little. If Stanley had noticed that, he was kind enough, as always, to ignore it.

But he did frown at her words and asked, “Uh, whatever for?”

Syd shrugged. “For everything. For being my friend. For always being there for me, even when I was being a colossal dick. For coming to my rescue even now, even though you know how dangerous it is. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for, Stanley. I am so honoured to have you in my life.”

“Ah,” was all Stanley could make out. He looked ahead then at the darkening sky, avoiding her gaze. It took him a full twenty seconds before he finally spoke again. “You know I care about you, Syd. I told you at the homecoming already. So, really. It’s nothing. You’re very welcome.”

“I know. And I know that Dina cares about me too. Hell, I know my _mother_ cares about me above everyone else. But you don’t see them going on a road-trip for a month with a mob boss to look for me. _You_ did that, Stan. And really-“ Syd faltered slightly, and she sucked in her breath to force back the overwhelming emotion she felt. She gave Stanley a small, sad smile before she continued. “After all I’ve done to you, I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve _you_ , Stanley, and your friendship.”

“Maybe,” he replied quietly as he slowly looked back to her. “Maybe you don’t deserve my friendship. Maybe you don’t deserve my kindness. Maybe you don’t deserve my _love._ That’s not for you to decide though, Syd. That’s on me.”

“But why? Why would you waste all that on me? I’m not special or anything. I mean, I have powers, yes. But you’ve always been really kind to me before I told you about my powers.”

It took Stanley sometime before he replied. He took her hand in his, squeezed it gently and said, “My mother left my dad around the same time your family moved to Brownsville. You might not remember it, but we ran into each other not long after you settled down. You gave me chocolate because you thought I looked sad, and then you skipped away before I could thank you. And from that moment on, I decided that I would stick around, for you. You were the only reason why I didn’t run away despite all the beatings my father gave me. So, when you left that night after homecoming, I knew that I no longer had a reason to stay in Brownsville. Wherever you’re going, I’m coming with you.”

Syd didn’t even care that she was crying. She didn’t think she’d even have noticed if she hadn’t felt how her face was all wet. Letting out a shaky breath, she scooted closer toward the boy who had done everything for her, tucking her head onto his shoulder. She felt Stanley tense a little bit in surprise, but he quickly relaxed and put a tentative hand around her.

“I think I’m going to take a quick nap now,” Syd whispered, closing her eyes as the sounds around her slowly lulled her to sleep.

“Of course, Syd,” Stanley replied. “You can rest now. And when you wake up, everything’s going to be alright. I promise.”

And for the very first time since her father passed away, Sydney Novak believed it.

* * *

_DING DONG!_

_DING DONG!_

_DING DONG!_

_DING—_

“Liam, don’t open the door—“

“Hey there, little man! Don’t mind me. I’m just the mailman. Hank the mailman. Here to um…deliver a mail. And I’ll be gone now. Goodbye!”

Liam Novak wasn’t stupid. Just because he was a kid didn’t mean he was stupid. And he _hated_ it when adults treated him as if he was. In fact, his grades could prove to anyone that he was probably one of the smartest kids in Brownsville. Therefore, Liam could say, without a doubt, that the weird man with the weird blond-wig was definitely _not_ the mailman. Liam actually knew the usual mailman who delivered the mail to his house, along with the bills that would usually make his mother frown and start drinking in the afternoon. He was an older man, with a thick moustache and bushy eyebrows, and Liam was pretty sure the man was mute. So, whoever that man in the wig was, he couldn’t be the mailman. But before Liam could even slam the door in his face, the man had pushed an envelope into his hand and had immediately left in the black Mustang he came in. That was _another_ proof that the man wasn’t and could never be the mailman. No mailman drove a Mustang.

“Liam, I _told_ you not to open the door!” Maggie chastised her son. “What if it had been the reporters? I really don’t think I have the energy to deal with them today.”

“I’m sorry, Mum,” Liam said as he approached his mother, the letter the fake-mailman gave him still clutched in his hand. “The bell kept on ringing and it was _so_ annoying. I just forgot.”

Maggie sighed, knowing firsthand just how infuriating the constant ringing of the bell could be. Sinking back into the couch, she gave Liam a smile and nodded. “It’s fine. I know what you mean… Who was it though?”

“He said he was the mailman. He couldn’t be though. That wasn’t Mr Binns.”

Maggie immediately tensed at her son’s words. Ever since Syd ran away almost two months ago, a lot of strange men had been coming to her home. Asking difficult questions that Maggie could never seem to answer. It was bad enough that the FBI had been interrogating everyone in Brownsville about what her daughter could possibly have done to Brad Lewis. The insinuations weren’t lost on her. She knew what they meant. It didn’t help when people started to notice that Stanley Barber, the boy people knew was quite close with Syd, was missing too. It was why Maggie had become so overprotective toward Liam. She drove him to and picked him up from wherever he needed to be, and even though money was tight, she didn’t dare to pick up more shifts. She was terrified that if she left Liam for too long, she’d lose him too.

“Did he say anything?” Maggie asked her son carefully, feeling her heart thundered in her chest.

“Just that he’s delivering mail,” Liam said curtly, giving the envelope in his hand to her.

With shaky hands, Maggie grabbed the envelope from her son. At first glance, it looked like a simple, white envelope. There was no writing on it. Not even an address or a stamp. Alarm bells began to ring in her mind, and she pulled Liam onto her lap as if by doing so, she could protect him. She didn’t even care that Liam was getting too big to be sitting on her lap. She just needed to feel him close. She flipped the envelope over a couple of times, trying to see whether it was some sort of bomb or something. But it was thin enough to assure her that it _was_ a normal envelope. In the end, she knew that she had no choice but to open it. She sent a quick prayer to the Almighty though, as she ripped the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper from inside it. Just to be safe.

But then her eyes landed on her _daughter’s_ familiar handwriting.

Her daughter Syd, whom she hadn’t heard from for almost two months.

“It’s from Syd,” Liam whispered, obviously noticing the handwriting. The paper only had numbers on it, with a code that was obviously from abroad.

“It’s a phone number,” Maggie said, eyeing the numbers closely as if they could tell her where her daughter was. And maybe they could.

She knew they could.

“Call it, Mum,” Liam said. Like Maggie, his eyes were still set on the numbers his sister had written on the piece of paper.

“Okay,” Maggie agreed, her voice breaking a little. She felt like she moved almost robotically as she pressed the numbers into her phone, her hand shaking like mad as she pulled the phone to her ear. Maggie almost didn’t dare to breathe as she waited for the call to connect, thinking that Liam’s weight on her lap was the only thing that was grounding her.

_Ring… Ring… Ring… Ring…_

“Hello?” someone finally answered from the other line. It was a man.

“Uh, hi,” Maggie breathed out. “I uh, I just got this number? F-from… from…”

“From a man with a weird, blond wig,” Liam said, pressing himself closer to the phone.

“Oh, you must be Maggie Novak,” the man on the other line said pleasantly. “I’m Barry Berkman, a friend of your daughter’s. Wait, let me get—“

And after two months of sleepless nights worrying over her daughter, Maggie finally spoke to her.

“Hey, Mum,” Syd said, sounding a little tearful.

_“Sydney…”_ Maggie sobbed. She pulled Liam even closer to her, who also had tears falling down his face. “Oh my _God_ , are you okay? Where _have_ you been?”

“I’m fine, Mum. I promise,” Syd said. Maggie heard her sucking her breath in harshly, and could easily imagine how Syd was probably blinking her eyes furiously to get rid of the tears. “And I will tell you everything. I really will. But I just have something to ask you first.”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Maggie asked. “Do you need anything?”

Maggie would very well fight God _and_ Lucifer Themselves if Syd needed her to. There was nothing she wouldn't do for her baby girl.

“Say, Mum; what do you think about you and Goob moving to Australia?”

A beat, then, “ _I beg you pardon?”_

—End—


End file.
